


Teyla Emmagan: Love Doctor

by tielan



Series: The House That Jack Built [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG1
Genre: College AU, Drama, Humour, Multi, Romance, The House That Jack Built
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-22
Updated: 2010-12-27
Packaged: 2017-10-13 23:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/142715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the house that Jack built.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Love Doctor Is In

**Author's Note:**

> Premise: a college AU, in which the denizens of SG1 and SGA live in a college housing unit that's managed by Jack O'Neill. Cue college shenanigans, hijinks, love-affairs, and craziness.

Teyla had run out of the Japanese rice tea the day before and felt bad, although Miko insisted it was no trouble.

“I drink Coke,” she insisted, her eyes huge behind the oversized glasses that Teyla thought unfortunate. She was no fashion victim, but even she knew that the glasses didn’t do anything for the round, moon-like face of the little Japanese physicist with the eloquent hands. “Lindsay prefer lemonade, but Rodney does not like.”

In the six weeks since she’d moved in, Teyla had discovered there were a lot of things that Rodney didn’t like. She had never met anyone with such demanding dietary and personal requirements. “Rodney has...very specific tastes.”

Miko had turned up on her doorstep some ten minutes ago, and after various exchanges of small-talk, Teyla was still not sure why the other girl had come to her. She supposed that Miko was just reciprocating the visit Teyla had paid her and Lindsay Novak the first week she’d moved into the building. It seemed like something that Miko might feel was appropriate.

“I help with his teaching,” Miko said. “He let me assist.”

“Oh? You’re Rodney’s teaching assistant?” Teyla set the glass of Coke down on the table before Miko and gestured her to a seat. “I did not know that.”

Janet was the one who kept up with the gossip. Teyla usually heard the news second-hand from Janet, or third-hand from John or Cameron - Vala being even more ‘in the know’ than Janet.

Miko shook her head. “I do not teach. But I set up,” she said, beaming with pride and delight. “Rodney let me set up.”

She seemed so pleased about it that Teyla found it impossible not to smile back. “It is a significant mark of his trust in you.”

It was no small thing, either. Rodney was not someone who trusted easily in others’ work. Even among those whose competence he did not question, it seemed impossible for him not to just trust. Teyla had been at Liz’s apartment to study and observed his near-obsessive need to direct everything in his bourne - or out of it.

“Rodney is very demanding,” said Miko, sounding as though it was a privilege to have someone correct her for ‘doing it wrong’ every few minutes. “He has high standards.”

“Yes.” Teyla chose tact over truth. “That is one way to put it.”

“You are friend with Rodney. You understand.” Miko stirred her Coke with her straw, staring into the ice-cube depths of the glass. “He has brilliant mind, do you think? I like him very much.”

“He is likeable.” Almost inexplicably so. Perhaps it was because he could be insufferably rude one moment, then touchingly vulnerable a moment later.

Miko blushed and looked down. “But I _like_ him,” she said, lifting her eyes in appeal to Teyla. “And...and I do not know how...”

The wispy voice trailed off, leaving a tactful gap for her companion to fill in the blanks.

It was at this moment that, Teyla realised that this was what Janet called ‘a girly talk’ and that she had just been cast in the role of romantic advisor.

\--

“It was a terrible moment,” she confided to Janet later, when her roomie had blown in with the last warmth of September and a deep-dish pizza pie that was their dinner. “One cannot tell her that Rodney has a preference for buxom blondes with brains.”

Janet grinned as she leaned her chin on her hand. “Sam’s not buxom.”

“You know what I mean,” Teyla insisted once she had swallowed her mouthful of pizza pie. The pepperoni tingled pleasantly on her tongue.

“Sadly, I do. What did you tell her?”

“What could I tell her? I do not think she is the kind of girl for whom Rodney would form an attraction. All I could suggest was that she be more direct in her interest.”

It had been the only thing Teyla could think of in that desperate moment of complete disbelief.


	2. Cultural

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel sounds Teyla out about a Thanksgiving idea he has.

“Miko’s been coming over a lot lately,” Daniel said as Liz moved about the kitchen getting drinks for them. They’d arrived back from classes at the same time and Liz had invited him in.

“She _is_ teaching with Rodney.” Sort of.

Liz’ head popped up over to the kitchen bench, astonished. “She _is_?”

“Uh...” Daniel glanced at Teyla. “Not quite.”

“She sets up the classroom for him,” Teyla clarified her statement. She had tried not to think her talk with Miko only a week ago. There was no advice she could have given that the Japanese girl would have taken.

Daniel nodded. “He says she can’t do anything right, but...you know Rodney.”

Sadly, they did. “I don’t know what Rodney’s said to her, but lately, she comes over and cleans the apartment.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Liz asked sweetly, causing Teyla to muffle a laugh. Daniel and Rodney’s apartment was well-known for its clutter - as compared to John, Cameron, and Vala, who were simply slobs.

“I guess...” Daniel didn’t sound too sure about it. “I feel bad about letting her...”

“So do it yourself,” Liz interrupted.

“I try! But she’s just...” There was a curious flush rising on his cheeks. Teyla eyed him and he flushed further. “She came around yesterday while Sha’re was over and we were practising Arabic. And Sha’re didn’t say anything but...”

 _Ah._ Teyla had met Sha’re one evening while learning how to D &D roleplay. She had ended up abandoning the game in favour of sitting with the Egyptian girl and discussing the Egyptian view of the war in Iraq. It had taken a little while for Teyla to draw Sha’re out, but her efforts had ultimately been successful and a long and fruitful conversation had ensued regarding culture and social expectations.

“You guys can clean up after yourselves, Daniel,” said Liz a little impatiently.

“Rodney won’t.”

“It’s not rocket science.”

“Which is _why_ Rodney will not,” Teyla said. “Anything less is an insult to his intelligence.”

Liz brought the drinks over and the conversation turned to other matters - such as the vendetta presently carrying on between Sam and Mr. O’Neill. They passed into study talk, until Liz received a call on her cellphone from her boyfriend Simon and went into her room to take it.

“Got any plans for Thanksgiving?”

“Family lunch,” Teyla said, selecting a potato chip from the bowl Liz had put out. “Then shopping on the Friday. You?”

“Nothing much,” Daniel said. “I don’t have much by way of family, so I was thinking of holding a Thanksgiving celebration here. Nothing big, just a few of the residents and Sha’re.”

“She will be staying here for Thanksgiving?”

“Well, her family don’t celebrate it and the college will be mostly empty. So I thought that maybe she’d like...”

He trailed off. Teyla ventured a question.

“Are you dating?”

“No!” Daniel’s denial was a little too fast and he seemed to know it, because he flushed again. “Her family’s very strict Muslim.”

Teyla frowned. “Then will Ramadan not be a problem for her during Thanksgiving?”

“I think it finishes just before...” Daniel trailed off. “I like her. She had to fight her family just to come to America to study. And while her father sounds pretty okay, it doesn’t sound like the rest of her relatives are quite so progressive.”

For a moment, Teyla wondered why Daniel was bringing this to her. His major was archaeology with a touch of anthropology for good measure. “Are you not friends?”

“Yes.”

“A friend is never unwelcome.”

\--

“Personally, I don’t understand what he sees in her,” Vala said, her lazy tones dismissive as she swirled her swizzle stick in the martini glass. “She’s a dowdy little thing. No style, no adventure, not even lipgloss.” With a shrug of her shoulders, she tipped back the rest of her drink and speared the olive in the bottom. “Daniel could do much better.”

“Such as you?” Teyla asked sarcastically.

Vala perked up. “Now, there’s a thought. He’s got that whole yummy geek thing going. I bet I could train him up real well.”

“Like a dog?”

“Well, I think he’d beg very nicely.”


	3. About The Bush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz confronts Teyla.

“So what’s happening between you and Ronon?”

Teyla did not look up at Liz’s carefully innocuous question; she did not stiffen, she did not snap, she did not huff. For the sake of friendship, she kept her temper.

“Nothing,” she said.

Privately, she was tired of the interest that the others in the building were taking in her friendship with Ronon. They jogged together in the mornings, and took the same capoeira classes down at the local gym, had a remarkably common background - and that was all.

She wished the others would realise that time spent with a person did not necessarily mean that the relationship was sexual or romantic.

Janet, at least, had noticed her weariness of the question and was no longer needling her about it, and John had never spoken of it at all, but the others in the building were slower - or just too stubborn to release their preconceived ideas. Some of them - such as Vala - were gleeful and eager for gossip. Others - such as Daniel - were just curious.

“So...you’re not dating?”

Teyla put down her pen and folded her hands on the table, looking over at the other young woman with an aggravated calm she didn’t bother to hide. She wouldn’t lose her temper, but she wouldn’t hide her annoyance at the question either. “Is there a reason for this inquisition?”

“I just...” Liz was going pink. She self-consciously brushed back a wisp of brown hair. “I’m just wondering.”

“You may stop wondering,” Teyla said, crisply. “We are friends. That is all. We have common interests and are fond of the same things, but I do not feel romantically about him, and I do not believe he feels romantically about me. He has certainly given no indication.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Is that a satisfactory answer?”

“Teyla, I’m sorry. I just...” The book in front of Liz developed an intense fascination before she looked up, briefly, then down again. “I’ve got a couple of free tickets to go skating down at the ice rink next weekend, and I thought...” She was red to the tips of her ears now. “I thought that maybe Ronon might like to come with.”

Light dawned. _Oh_.

“But you didn’t wish to invite him if there was more between myself and Ronon.”

“You hang around each other all the time.”

Teyla eyed Liz. “Rodney and Daniel are always in here.”

“Only because Rodney has a crush on Sam. Do you mind?”

“Rodney’s crush in Sam? Not at all.” When Liz glared at her, Teyla smirked. “If I am not dating Ronon, then surely it is not my business to mind.”

“Some girls would.”

Teyla gave Liz a look. “Do I seem like ‘some girls’?”

“Okay, well, you know him pretty well. Do you think he’d say yes?”

Teyla reflected that she would not have picked the chattily social Liz to be interested in Ronon’s reserved quiet.

Privately, she thought that the request would probably knock Ronon over the head. He was generally oblivious to the interested looks of women and in no way encouraged them - unlike other men of her acquaintance.

However, it was clear that Liz was considering this quite seriously. Since her friend did little without a great deal of consideration, Teyla supposed that she should at least give the other woman due warning. “The only way you will know is to ask,” she said. “But I will say this. He ended a long-term relationship only a few months ago and may not be ready to develop a new one.”

Liz deflated, her cheeks still rosily pink - this time with mortification. “Oh.”

“That does not mean you should not ask,” Teyla said gently. “A friend is always welcome.”

\--

She nearly bumped into Carson on Sunday evening while taking out the garbage.

“Steady there, love,” he said, rearing back as she swung around the corner and nearly took him out.

“Oh! I am sorry, Carson. I was not watching where I was going.”

“Yes, I can see that well enough.” He grinned at her as she lifted a trash can lid and dumped the bag of garbage. “Had a good weekend?”

“Well enough.” Teyla gave a slight grimace. “I seem to have spent much of it giving advice.”

“Ah, yes. Janet says you’ve become the local love doctor.” Clearly, the prospect amused Carson. Teyla wished she could be so entertained by the ever-growing stream of people who seemed to consider her a suitable candidate to confess their romantic feelings and concerns.

“I do not understand it. Kate is the one studying psychology. I can only listen.”

“Listening’s more than most do, Teyla,” he said, so sagely that she could not help a smile.

“Such as now?”

“Such as now. Although,” he added as he held open the door for Teyla to enter, “I’m curious as to what advice you gave Ronon about his date last night. He seemed rather nervous about it until after he saw you.”

Teyla’s laugh echoed through the central atrium of the apartment block.

Her exasperated response to Ronon’s concerns about seeing Liz had been no less than, _If all else fails, I do not think she will mind if you throw her over your shoulder and carry her off to your cave._


	4. Advice vs. Strategy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cameron's got girl trouble.

Cameron was drunk by the time Teyla found him and John in the bar. A line of empty glasses attested to his inebriation.

“Should I ask?” She inquired of John as she sat down beside Cameron. So far as she had been aware, they’d met here for a quick Friday afternoon drink. It seemed that it had turned into something a little more elaborate in the hours since it had been organised.

“Oh, Teyla, you’re here. Good! A female to help me out.”

Teyla arched an eyebrow at the apparently sober John.

“Girl trouble.” John flagged down one of the waitpeople and ordered Teyla a Corona.

“Carolyn Lam is not a girl,” Cameron informed them, swaying precariously on his chair with one glass raised in the air. “She is a _woman_.”

John rolled his eyes as he leaned over to mutter, “He’s been like this all aftern--”

The glasses rattled on the table as Cameron slammed his palms down. “Hey! No whipster...whister...whispering about the drunk guy! You’re here to help me!”

“I thought I was here for a quick drink after school,” Teyla observed with something like a sigh.

“You _have_ to help me, Teyla. Caro won’t talk to me.”

The Corona arrived and Teyla poked the lime deeper into the neck of the bottle with a sigh. “Cameron, you kissed Sam at the Hallowe’en party last weekend.”

“Hey, that was part of the whole dress-up thing,” Cameron protested. “I was a bold adventurer, she was a mermaid--”

“They were drunk,” said John in an undertone as he drank the last of his glass of Bud.

“So were you,” Teyla said with pointed sweetness. “And yet you did not attempt to kiss me.”

John ducked his head, and Teyla returned her gaze to Cameron who was looking from one to the other with an expression upon which false realisation was dawning. “Say, is there something I should know about here? You guys are--?”

“Just friends.” She might have been a little more forceful about it than she intended, but John was staring into his glass as though he had just discovered a bug at the bottom, and she did not wish to give Cameron the wrong impression - or any opportunity to tease about that which was untrue. “Which,” she added as a grin began to break on his features, “is more than you and Carolyn presently are.”

It was cruel. His expression crashed like a falling plane. “Okay, so I screwed up,” he said with the expansive openness that was so very much a part of his nature. “How do I make it better? What’s a guy to do when he’s in the doghouse?”

John flagged down a waitperson and ordered two Buds and a Coors. “Buy flowers?”

“Flowers might help,” Teyla said. “But forgiveness cannot be bought. It must be earned.”

Cameron waved a finger at her. “See, that sounds like something my grandma would say!”

“Then your grandma is wise as her grandson is not. Do you want this relationship with Carolyn?”

“I...” Cameron looked confused. “Well, yeah. I guess.”

His uncertainty was not encouraging. Teyla sighed and shrugged. He had named her advisor, so she would give him advice. “Then I would apologise for kissing Sam - assuming that you regret it - and take pains to show Carolyn that you care for her.”

“How?”

Teyla shrugged. “That is up to you.”

“Come on, Teyla, you can’t just leave it there--”

“You wished for advice,” she drawled, “not strategy. I would think that a former Air Force pilot would know something of strategy,” Teyla said, reaching for her knapsack to pull out the bag of caramel popcorn she’d stashed there for her lectures. She had forgotten about it in the course of the day.

The boys suddenly sat up.

“Someone’s got a stash!” John said, leaning over to try to steal the bag from her.

“I can’t strategise on a stomach empty of caramel popcorn, now, can I?”

Cameron was doing his best doleful-and-soulful expression. Teyla rapped John across the fingers as he tried to steal the bag from under her arm. “Mine!”

“Come on, Teyla. Just one handful.”

“No!”

In the subsequent tussle for control of the popcorn bag, Teyla supposed her advice forgotten.

\--

“Where is Cameron today?” Teyla inquired as she settled down in the armchair that was her usual fortress during the Saturday afternoon football viewing in John, Cameron, and Vala’s apartment.

John handed her a cherry Coke and waggled the bag of hot popcorn at her. “Making up to Caro. At least, I assume that’s what he’s doing.”

“But you are not sure?” Teyla popped open the bag and inhaled the scent with a sigh. The warm buttery scents wafted out the bag and she took her tiime before selecting the first handful of kernels.

“Well, he didn’t exactly confide in me on that front,” John took a swig of beer and waved the bottle around in the air. “But I thought I heard her at the door this morning, so I guess they’re making up.” He turned up the volume as the players for the Air Force Falcons jogged out of the locker rooms and onto the field. “This is gonna be good...”

Teyla grinned. Watching John watch football - particularly when the Air Force was involved - was as much entertainment as watching the game itself.

“You do not have girl trouble?”

John shrugged and neatly snagged the popcorn bag out of her hand with a self-deprecating smile. “Don’t have a girl - or a woman.”


	5. Quandary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes there's nothing you can do.

**quandary**

“You’ve got to help me.”

That was all the warning Teyla was given before Sam Carter pushed past her into the apartment. She rubbed at her eyes, bewildered by the unexpected appearance of the other woman at her door. “I am sorry? What?”

She’d been taking a Sunday afternoon nap - much needed after Vala had dragged her out last night until four in the morning - and woken to someone banging on her door. That someone turned out to be Sam Carter, quite clearly distressed.

“Janet is not here,” Teyla said. Her mind was groping for some kind of context, and all she could think of was that Sam had somehow mistaken who she was talking to. “She and Cassie have gone out for the afternoon.”

Sam gave her an exasperated look. “Teyla, I did say I wanted _you_ to help me, not Janet.”

“Oh.” Feeling rather stupid and still slightly groggy, Teyla closed the door behind Sam. “If you will wait a moment, I will make us both a cup of tea and you can...you can talk about...your problem.”

The blonde immediately plumped herself down on a stool and fidgeted. Teyla took a deep breath, pushed off the door and went to find something to stimulate her senses into something that might reasonably resemble sanity. “Do you mind Lapsang Souchang?”

“Uh, do you have any coffee?”

Janet had instant coffee. That was about it.

So Teyla boiled water and fetched sugar and teabags and the jar of instant coffee, while her guest looked around and fiddled with the dolls that Cassie had left on the table.

“It’s Jack,” she blurted as Teyla set the mugs down on the table. Sam began heaping teaspoons of sugar into the mug of coffee, hardly noticing what she was doing. “Mr. O’Neill,” she qualified.

It was the talk of the building. While their initial interactions had apparently involved a great deal of sniping which had given way to a mild vendetta, it seemed that an attraction had grown steadily over the last few months, culminating in them being seen eating dinner over at Murray’s, although Sam had insisted that she’d just happened to meet Mr. O’Neill there and he’d offered to buy her dinner.

Considering that they had been ‘sprung’ four times at Murray’s, having ‘just happened’ to meet for dinner, the residents of the building were not inclined to believe that it was pure accident that had Sam and Mr. O’Neill spending so much time in each other’s company.

“Ah,” Teyla said, inhaling the fragrant scent of tea and beginning to wake up. “So, you are...friends?”

Sam was poking at the joints of the doll on the table, her cheeks flushed. “I... Yes. I guess. I’m not sure, you see. Because, well, he’s about eight or nine years older. I mean, it’s not like he usually takes an interest in younger women - all the dates he’s been seen with before have been his own age. I didn’t know if he was just being nice or if he was actually interested because guys usually _aren’t_ interested. Except for Rodney, of course. Who doesn’t count.”

It would take someone more clever than Teyla to parse her way through Sam’s speech, but she thought she had the gist of it. And there was more to this than just the question of age difference and interest, too. Because Sam had changed tenses halfway through her explanation - from _I’m not sure_ to _I didn’t know_.

“You have dinner together on a regular basis?”

“Well, we were for a while. Until the Hallowe’en party.” The one which had occasioned a kiss with Cameron and Carolyn’s displeasure. “I mean, it was just a quick kiss. Cam didn’t _mean_ it.”

“Did Mr. O’Neill know that?”

“I don’t know,” said Sam, clearly unhappy. “But he kept on cancelling or having reasons that he couldn’t go out when I called up...and so when one of my brother’s friends called to see if I was free on Friday...”

Teyla had a feeling she knew where this was going. The other day, Liz had mumbled something about a strange guy in the apartment and then sworn Teyla to secrecy about it. She hadn’t given it much thought - until now.

“Vala came in while I was getting ready, and she found me this outfit and told me to behave like I was someone else...” Something at which Vala excelled. “And we went out and it was...fun...”

“You slept with him,” Teyla said calmly. She made an effort not to suggest she was judging Sam, but the other girl flushed and looked up.

“I was drunk. But he was interesting and funny - he made me laugh, and...and we had...I thought we had a _connection_...”

But the connection had vanished by the next morning as such ‘connections’ usually did without the addition of intoxication and the blanketing night.

“And Mr. O’Neill was coming up the stairs just as I let Pete out...” Sam moaned as she sank her head down onto the table. “Oh, God. I’ll never forget his expression. He looked at me like I was dirt.”

Teyla didn’t sigh. In a way, Cameron’s trespass had been more easy to forgive - a kiss was just a kiss, and he could make amends when the relationship had been previously acknowledged, even if both parties had chosen to ‘take a break.’

“And you want my help?”

“I need advice.”

“Do you want advice about dealing with your landlord, or about dealing with a man to whom you are attracted?”

“Attracted.”

Teyla winced. “You were not officially going out, so your sex life is not his business. And since it was not official, you are not obliged to give an apology...”

“So what can I do?”

This time, Teyla sighed. “Nothing. There is nothing you _can_ do but wait for it to...to blow over.”

As the other woman’s face fell, she reflected that she would not be in Sam’s boots for all the world. Climbing to her feet, she crossed over to one of the side cupboards and pulled out a bottle of red wine. While Sam watched in bewilderment, Teyla poured out a glass of merlot and set it in front of her.

“Have a drink.”

It was all she had to offer at this present moment.

\--

 _Murray’s_ was, thankfully, open of a Sunday night.

By the time Teyla had seen a slightly tipsy and somewhat teary Sam back to her apartment, she had a hankering for some solid comfort food.

The restaurant was thankfully empty of customers - on nights like these, people came and went in waves. Teyla paused at the chalked-up menu and pondered her options.

“Miss Emmagen.” Mr. T. Murray’s slow, easy tones washed over her, a warm reassurance in the midst of weariness. “You are hungry this evening?”

“Looking for comfort food,” she explained.

“A bad day?”

“Not mine, but someone else’s,” she said. “She needed someone to talk to.”

“And did you then listen to your friend?”

“I listened,” she said with a grimace. “I wish I could say I helped. My advice...wasn’t very helpful.” Of course, there _wasn’t_ any helpful advice she could give Sam in her quandary regarding Mr. O’Neill. It was a coil that would not be easily untangled.

“Ah.” Murray tilted his head and lifted one eyebrow. “Food can be a comfort.”

She smiled. “And that is why I have come here. What do you have tonight?”

“There is the chicken soup with rosemary - fragrant and tasty. Or, if you wish for something more robust, beef stroganoff in a red wine sauce. Or, if you wish something hot on this cold night, perhaps you would consider the lamb Rogan Josh.”

“Rogan Josh is a curry?”

“That is correct.”

“Then I will have the curry, please,” she said, digging out her purse.

She paid and waited with one hip on the counter as she watched the big, heavy hands ladle out the curry with graceful care. He was a big man, but he moved as lightly as a dancer. Teyla could imagine him orchestrating the making of the meal, chopping foodstuffs and moving pots and pans in a ballet of cookery.

“Thank you,” she said, gratefully accepting the box of curry and rice and turning away towards the door.

“Teyla Emmagan.” She stopped, wondering if she’d done something wrong. But Murray was smiling as he regarded her. “You are a sensible young woman. You would not give foolish advice to a friend.”

The compliment made her flush. “Ah. Thanks.”

“You are welcome, Miss Emmagan.”

As she pushed open the door that led into the cooler lobby of the apartment block, Teyla wished she could be so assured on that count.


	6. Never Let Your Wingman Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John insists on dragging Teyla out to a bar.

Teyla had intended to go back to her apartment and have a quiet night, but John insisted on dragging her out to a bar.

“Not to get drunk,” he assured her. “Just to hang out.”

She had rolled her eyes as he stood in his kitchen, looking hopefully across at her. “In need of a wingman, John?”

The tips of his ears had tinted scarlet, but other than a slight firmness in his lips, he’d simply repeated, “Just hanging out.”

In the end, Teyla had decided that a burger dinner on the way to the bar was better than the cup-of-noodles she’d otherwise planned to have. And since John paid for the meal, Teyla paid for the first round of drinks when they reached the chosen bar.

Bright neon backlit the serving area, and although it was early, the dance floor was already crowded. Teyla looked around interestedly, having never been in this bar - her preference was for the retro clubs rather than the modern bars that played music over which it was impossible to speak. When she wished to dance, she would dance.

“Do you come here often?” She asked him as they settled down with their drinks. When he grinned at her, she flicked condensation at him. “You know what I mean.”

“Not a lot,” he said. “I just wanted somewhere we could sit and talk.”

“Sitting, yes.” Teyla glanced around at the noise and the music. “I do not believe that much talking is done around here.”

He shrugged, his mind evidently elsewhere, and after a moment, she sipped her drink and let the silence wait. He had brought her here for a reason; it might take him some time to get to it, but when he did...

“There’s this girl I like,” John blurted. His mouth snapped closed over the words and he rubbed at the back of his neck, embarrassed.

Of all the things Teyla had imagined might come from him, that had not been one of them. She stifled a brief envy for the unknown admired and merely asked, “Girl or woman?”

John snorted at the memory of Cam’s drunken outburst the other week. “I think she likes me. Well, I know she likes me because we’re friends. I just don’t know if she _likes_ me. If you know what I mean.”

“I believe I do.” Teyla picked at the label on her beer, uncomfortable. She had never thought of John as the kind of guy who would confess his heart to a friend. He was...emotionally reserved. A mate and a buddy to all, and yet truly intimate with none. She doubted that even Cameron truly knew John - but then, with his hearty cheer and his good-natured charm, Cameron was a simple soul.

 “So,” she said, keeping her voice low and clear beneath the screeching rock of the pumping music. “You have not approached her on this?”

“No.” John stared very hard at his beer, only occasionally transferring his gaze up to her. “I mean, she’s made comments on some of the girls I’ve been seeing, but it’s not exactly jealousy...” He trailed off. “I’m making a mess of this.”

He was.

And Teyla had a feeling she already knew who his interest was.

She recalled the evening Liz had expressed an interest in Ronon. They’d spent the evening picking apart the love lives of everyone in the building, from Mr. O’Neill and Sam, to Radek and his Swedish masseuse. And Liz had given her pithy thoughts on John’s taste in women, “ _Skanks_. _All of them. Okay,_ almost _all of them. The first one - Chaya - she was okay. A bit standoffish, though._ ”

Teyla had laughed. She’d mitigated her reservations about John’s dates and girlfriends whenever he asked her for an opinion. “ _Did you tell him this?_ ”

“ _I’ve said his taste in women is pretty shocking!_ ”

She wondered what Liz would say to the news that John’s taste in women ran to her. Not that it mattered. “I am sorry, John,” she said, after a moment, a slight sinking feeling in her belly. “I thought you knew. Liz is dating Ronon.”

He jerked upright. “What? For how long?”

“Since Halloween.”

“Really?” Oddly, he looked more intrigued than disappointed. “Okay, that was unexpected.”

“I am sorry.” She patted him on the hand, awkwardly, because he was not one for physical contact.

“What? Why?” Then he blinked. “Wait. You think I’ve been pining for-- Really? Liz?”

Teyla shrugged, both relieved and bewildered by his reaction. “You were not?”

“Not that I know of. And I think I should know.” Still, in spite of his denial, he seemed despondent after that, draining the rest of his beer with a reckless tilt of the bottle. “Want another one?”

“Yes, please. John?” Teyla waited for him to get up, a guarded look on his face. “If you do not tell her you like her, then how will she know?”

He winced. “I was hoping she’d just...notice. Isn’t that what girls do?”

With that, he walked off to the bar to get them more drinks. Teyla shook her head and looked around the bar and pondered the identity of the mysterious girl. Not Elizabeth, then. Possibly Sam? Certainly not Vala - John would not have trouble getting Vala to notice him, although he might have trouble holding her attention! She dismissed Carolyn Lam because of Cam - John would not poach a buddy’s girl; Miko was too focused on Rodney to have eyes for everyone else; and she, like Lindsay Novak, was unlike John’s usual type of girlfriend.

Kate was a possibility - or Janet. They were friends with John, too, and more in John’s style.

And it was more than possible that Teyla didn’t know his interest at all. John had many acquaintances.

He took his time getting their drinks, and Teyla had finished her beer by the time he got back. “The lines were pretty bad,” he explained, setting the bottles down on the table with a clatter and a wobble that made her lean across the table to catch one. “You okay?”

“I am fine. Just thinking.” She noted he’d gotten a stronger beer for himself this time, full-strength not a light. She tilted her bottle towards his like a pointing finger. “Are you certain that you did not ask me in here just so there would be someone to drag you home after you have drunk yourself into misery, John?”

Something flashed across his face, come and gone in the blink of a coloured strobe light, but the impression left with Teyla was of anger. She opened her mouth to apologise and saw him lean in towards her.

His mouth brushed across hers, pushing against her with firm pressure, but also a tenderness. She felt his finger draw along her jaw, coaxing her in, and she leaned for a moment before realisation hit and she pulled away.

Silence sprang up between them. Teyla stared at him. He seemed defiantly unrepentant at his actions, and in the face of sudden evidence, she dropped her gaze to the table and brushed her fringe from her eyes, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

“That was dumb,” he said suddenly. Teyla thought about agreeing, then considered it best to say nothing. “Teyla, I...”

“Could you not have just said?”

“I didn’t want you to say ‘no’!” John scraped his fingers through his unruly hair. “Look, forget about it. It’s not important. I mean, it’s not... Oh, shit.” He locked his fingers at the back of his neck as he rested his elbows on the table, his shoulders heaving as though he was steeling himself.

Teyla waited, still reeling from this revelation. She had never entertained the thought that his interest might be in her, simply because she could not imagine bringing up the topic of liking someone to that someone. It was not her way, and she had not supposed it something John would do.

“You surprise me.”

“Teyla.” He sat up, and his hands dropped to cradle the bottle as though it was his lifeline. “We can just be friends,” he said and it was clear he was trying to be reassuring. But beneath the casual surface, Teyla could see an undertow of misery.

He felt he’d screwed up.

She wondered what he would think if she told him that she thought he had screwed up, too.

“John... I...” Teyla couldn’t find the right words to say, could barely think past the knot in her belly. John was right - friends was safer. Hadn’t she been careful not to admire too much, lest she develop a liking that was not reciprocated? “We can still be friends.”

She watched him sag a little in defeat, but admired the way he set his shoulders and looked her in the eye all the same. No quarter. “I’m sorry.”

None given. “Don’t be.”

He wasn’t expecting her to lean across the table. He wasn’t expecting her to grab the front of his shirt in her fist. He certainly wasn’t expecting her to yank him half across the table for a repeat kiss.

Teyla didn’t expect the wave of chilled liquid that pooled around her fingers as she tipped over her beer.

\--

“I don’t know,” John said as they drove up outside the building, the little smirk playing around his mouth as it had for the remainder of the night. “I _like_ the smell of beer on you.”

“Eau de Beer,” Teyla murmured, amused by the thought. She wasn’t drunk, but she thought she might be a little tipsy. Or possibly just intoxicated. As they climbed out of the car, a glint of light across the street caught her eye - the lighted window of _Murray’s_ , open late on a Saturday night, and a lone blonde head sitting at a table, focused determinedly on her work.

John’s arm slipped around her waist, pulling her up against him on the sidewalk. “What’s so interest...? Hey!” Teyla pulled him back behind the car. “Who are we spying on?”

Teyla indicated Sam Carter in _Murray’s_ , then watched as Mr. O’Neill walked into the eatery, and stopped by Sam’s table.

“You know,” John said in her ear, shifting a little so she was facing across the street with the view and he had her firmly in his arms, “if we’re going to spy on people from outside on a chilly night, we might as well get comfy.”

She snorted when his hands slid a little lower on her hips, but didn’t otherwise protest. The conversation seemed civil enough, although perhaps a little stilted, and it was hard to tell from across the road.

It was also hard to concentrate when John’s long nose was tickling the side of her throat.

Still, Teyla supposed it was a start. She sighed, pleased that this much effort was being made between the luckless couple in _Murray’s_. “Let us go in.”

“My place or yours?”

“You have the big-screen TV. And ESPN.”

“Oh, I see how it goes now. You’re only dating me for my entertainment package.”

Teyla smirked up at him as they reached the sidewalk. “You could call it that.” And just laughed when he narrowed his eyes and wrestled her up the stairs to the front door of their building.


End file.
